(38 seconds of cheering.)

The title of this post comes from the transcript that I printed below of Vin Scully's call of the end of the Sandy Koufax perfect game. After Koufax nails it down, Scully went silent and let the crowd noise take over for 38 seconds. How many announcers have the sense of the moment and the confidence in their listeners to be able to let 38 seconds of ecstatic cheering take over the radio broadcast? On television, it would have been impressive, but on radio, it was downright courageous.

(For a contrast to this, listen to Milo Hamilton's 1974 call of Henry Aaron's 714th home run, which pushed Aaron past Babe Ruth and made him the all-time champion. The networks will show the clip this summer when Barry Bonds passes Ruth and heads towards Aaron's 755. Hamilton starts yelling about "a new home run champion" as Aaron circles the bases instead of letting the moment speak for itself. His voice is like sandpaper -- he makes his words the story instead of letting Hammerin' Hank have the spotlight.)

(Amazingly, Hamilton is still on the airwaves -- he is still harming the eardrums of Astros' fans in Houston. I’m sure that he is a great guy deep down, a fine American, but he sounds like a born corporate shill who enjoys reading advertisements ("This is Milo for Hi-Lo!") more than anything else. He sounds aggrieved regularly without bring any of the descriptive skills and pure passion of Houston's great, biased Rockets' announcer Gene Peterson ("Dream is backing him in, backing him in, HE’S HACKED! NO CALL! He shoots and scores!"). Hamilton neither expresses joy about what has happened on the field (like Gene Peterson) nor paints a picture and then leans away from the microphone to let the lack of announcer enhance the experience (like Vin Scully).)

What does this have to do with anything? Well, nothing. Except that whenever there is a gap in my posts, just think, "He's letting the audience cheer. It's just his version of 38 seconds of cheering.